People are
the collection
Of stuff and confusion
And love that gets left on the bench
Milling around
Like sheep looking for a home
But finding an oven instead.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
How do I lose myself?
I am not easily misplaced Or forgotten, Arriving as I do Before even the curtains draw And that first morning jug boils, Bleary, yes Grudgin...
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She shares the blame For Adam's fall So secure, attractive Brilliant in a certain view The essence of Enlightenment I see her raise her ...
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Final Thoughts From an AGM You want to mess with me? I can take you down a notch Spill the beans I’ll spill your blood Tooth for tooth, splo...
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Standing on a Hillside Sometimes you look back on where you have been Past the cloud-fluffy daffodils bobbing and green Through the deep dar...
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